The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-07-16
JAMES WIFE.
A STORY FOR MOTHERS.

1
frequent guest at the old farmhouse
since my childhood, and the echo OF
voices seemed still to linger in the large
rooms that had once resounded with our
merry shouts. The familiar surround
ings of the old.iashioned home seemed to
make impossible the years that had
passed. The quaint furnishings of the
house remained unchanged; the flowers
that bordered the walk held their place;
bachelors buttons, marigolds, sweet will
liams and tiger lilies bloomed as in years
gone by, to the apparent satisfaction OF
the inmates of the old home. A large
family had been reared under the roof
tree, but one by one the children had
forsaken the home nest, until but one
son remained.
The father and mother, though long
past the prime of life, retained much Of
the energy and strength Of earlier years,
and the routine of labor within and with
out revolved in channels made smooth
by the gentle friction of half century.
The marriage of James, the son of their
later years, disturbed the even current
Of their life. 1 knew that the young wife
had been reluctantly received into the
family.
AS the daughter sat by my side that
afternoon I watched the busy fingers,
and tried to read in the quiet face the
chances for harmony and happiness. Had
she counted the cost? Gould she, in her
youth and inexperience, understand the
difficulties OF her position? The habits of
lifetime would not easily change; she
must conform to the rigid customs of the
family, and learn to tread with even pace
the well-worn path.
Would she do this, or had she come to
SOW discord between mother and son; to
disquiet the declining years Of the aged
parents? I could not read the face that
bent SO intently over the work, but my
questions were not long unanswered.
The oppressive heat was moderated pres
emily by rising breeze. had scarcely
noticed the change in temperature when
the young wife hastily entered the house.
Returning presently with light wrap,
she folded it carefully around Mrs. Ben
ton, saying, SCI fear you will take cold,
mother"
Mrs. Benton's thanks were scarcely
spoken before the daughter again entered
the house, giving opportunity for the ex-
preston of the content and approval
had already read in the care-worn face.
"That's just the way Jenny takes care
OF me; do you know how pleasant it is to
be taken care OF p
81 have known" replied.
eyes," assented Mrs. Benton. ~ sup
pose your mother took care of you just as
I've always taken care of my girls; I'm
afraid didn't bring 'em up right; they
amt bit like Jenny; she's always think
ing about other folks; do believe the
child forgets Jenny Benton. Father and
1 dreaded her coming, and if it hadn't
been for James we shouldn't have con-
sented. I've seen how sons wives upset
things; you know we had Abner's wife
here spell; braced myself up, expect
ing all sorts Of trials; but Jenny is so
different from the rest of 'em. Moth
ing was good enough for Abner's wife
when she was here. She took the best
room in the house, and kept all her pretty
things in it, and Abner, too, as much as
she could. Now Jenny wants us to en-
joy everything with her. Did you notice
that pretty lamp in the sitting room?
That's Jenny's. and it almost seems as il
it had brought back my sight; old folks
are slow to buy new things, and father
and didn't know about this new burner.
Abner's wife would have kept it in her
room and let our old eyes wear out with
our old lamps. And the pictures; did
you notice them? They're Jenny's: she
asked to hang them there because she
didn't want her room crowded. She
wants to share all her sunshine, else it
isn't half sunshine to her"
Jenny did not return, and soon Mrs.
Benton entered the house.
"Mother," heard her say, "let me get
tea. just show me the table linen you
wish to use and l think I can arrange
everything as you wish to have it."
After little consultation Mrs. Benton
returned.
"Did you hear that?" she asked. "Jen-
ny isn't satisfied just to help do the easy
work, she wants to carry the burdens.
I've never trusted my own girls to do
what Jenny does, and she brought up
with different ways, too. I'm afraid 1
didn't bring up my girls right" repeated
Mrs. Benton with sigh. "Ihey amt a
bit like Jenny"
"Not so helptul?' asked.
"Not so helpful, and not SO thought
full" she replied. "Pve carried their bur-
dens until they expect me to carry them
and when 1 get too old to carry any more,
l shall be burden they won't know how
to bear, because I've never taught 'em.
It's pleasant to be taken care Of" repeat
cd Mrs. Benton.